


Looks like it's Diarmute AU Week 2020

by FolleDeJoie



Series: Diarmute AU Week 2020 Bois [1]
Category: Pilgrimage (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Blow Jobs, Diarmute Week, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mermaids, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Semi-Public Sex, mermute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:48:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25377175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FolleDeJoie/pseuds/FolleDeJoie
Summary: It's the season bois! Diarmute AU Week 2020 is back with 7 Alternate Universe prompts, and I've built up the confidence to actually participate this time!This will be the place that I post all of the prompts I managed to fill (probably not the full 7 but an attempt was at least made), so the tags will be updated with each post! :)
Relationships: Brother Diarmuid/The Mute
Series: Diarmute AU Week 2020 Bois [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1844269
Comments: 11
Kudos: 19





	1. 1 - Soulmate AU

**Author's Note:**

> Diarmuid's night is definitely not going how he'd anticipated.

Diarmuid pulled back with a gasp, drawing in some much needed oxygen before flicking his tongue over the head and sucking him down again. He heard the man behind the thin wall that separated them choke on air, the large hands visible over the top clenching when his cock hit the back of his throat.

He could feel his own hard-on pushing against his painfully tight jeans, and he reached down with his free hand to cup himself. Diarmuid hummed in relief and the vibrations had the man groaning, rough and deep as it echoed through stalls.

He still couldn’t believe what he was doing: kneeling on the cold tiles of the bar’s bathroom stall, choking and drooling over a strangers’ cock pushed through the glory hole. _Christ_ , he had no idea what the man even looked like. He could be _anyone_. He felt so dirty, so ashamed of what he was doing but God… he was harder than he’d been in months. Years. Maybe _ever._

He’d never sucked a cock like this, especially not one this big: even as the head hit the back of his throat and choked him it was just over half, and he had to pump the rest with his hand to keep it steady. His fingers didn’t even touch as he circled the thick shaft, and his mind exploded with the delicious urge to know what it would feel like inside him. It would go so deep, fill him up and burn as he stretched around him. Would it even _fit_?

He knew the man must be taller than him from the spread of his stance where his boots peeked through the bottom, the ease that his hands reached over and clung to the top of the stall. From what he could see of those thick fingers, he was tanned, dark hairs dusting his knuckles alongside scars and callouses. If the amount of soft, thick hair that cushioned the base of his cock was any indication, then the hair on his chest and his legs was probably the same. The sounds that he made rumbled through the air, and each deep grunt had Diarmuid’s heart pounding.

He unzipped his own jeans with shaking fingers, pulling himself free and groaning at the release of pressure on his member. He cupped himself roughly, drawing his palm over the weeping head and revelling in how good it felt.

Every so often the stranger’s hips jerked back when the head went a little too deep and made him gag, as if he was unsure if he had gone too far or didn’t want to choke him. As if he were trying to control himself. The realisation that he was trying to be considerate for this random guy sucking his cock, to which he owed absolutely nothing, had a strangely soft feeling twisting his in chest. Diarmuid had the sudden hazy urge to reward him for his gentle behaviour, give him anything he wanted, and he pulled off once more with a sigh.

Spit dribbled down his chin, sticky and dirty and he licked his aching lips as he kept stroking him. He wasn’t sure what the protocol was for talking to your anonymous hook-up, if it would ruin the mood or the unspoken laws that he didn’t know about, but he suddenly _had_ to let him know.

“You can fuck my mouth, if you want.” He rasped out, pressing a sloppy kiss to the underside of the head, wishing he could taste the salty skin instead of latex. He was prepared for the stranger to take him up on it, plunge his cock deep and use his mouth as hard and as rough as he wished.

He _wasn’t_ prepared for him to yelp and flinch away, cock slipping out of his hand as he pulled it back through the hole. Diarmuid breathed heavily, listening on in confusion at the sounds of the man fumbling with his clothes, foot bumping into the wall.

His mind was still reeling from the 180 the encounter had taken, feeling disappointed and like the worst type of idiot at what he’d done. He was still cupping himself, face flushed as he leaned his forehead on the stall. Fuck: he should never have said anything, he’d ruined the moment, had he used too much teeth, he shouldn’t even be doing this, what was he thinking…

The stranger unclicked the lock on his stall and threw it open, and Diarmuid listened out for the sounds of his heavy boots to disappear while he inwardly berated the sinking feeling in his stomach.

He jumped when there was instead a tentative knock on his own stall door. He swallowed thickly, nerves and uncertainty running wild as he hastily tucked his aching prick back into his jeans, wiping his mouth and chin with the back of his hand.

He stood up, knees aching from leaning on the hard tiles for so long, and his fingers hesitated over the latch. His instincts were screaming at him that this was a bad idea, that anything could happen; but… he reasoned that, the guy hadn’t tried to break down the door, and he hadn’t shouted at him yet. That had to mean _something_ , right?

He exhaled heavily, bracing himself as he flicked the latch and pushed open the door.

God… the man was _gorgeous._

Better than anything his mind could have conjured up. A head taller than him, chest and shoulders broad underneath his brown leather jacket, strength oozing from him. His luscious brown curls brushed over his endearingly big ears, and a thick cropped beard that framed the strong jawline underneath; his nose was bumped as if it had been broken in the past, and thick brows that were furrowed nervously sat above his hooded chocolate eyes.

His face was flushed, sweat beading on his brow from their activities. Diarmuid licked his lips instinctively as he caught sight of the prominent bulge in his jeans that Diarmuid had just had in his mouth, but trepidation ran through him as he gripped the stall door tightly, ready to slam at any moment. He didn’t know what good it would do against a man who looked like he could easily bench press him, but it would at least give him time to text his friends an SOS.

The man didn’t seem to be gearing up for a beating, however; his shoulders were tense as he stared at Diarmuid with wide eyes, briefly lingering on his puffy and reddened lips before clearing his throat and staring at a spot just over his shoulder. He licked his lips -and god, Diarmuid’s lust addled brain wanted to see what they felt like so badly- and frowned, mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.

Whatever seed of fear Diarmuid had felt had vanished and been replaced by pure puzzlement. He’d never been in a situation like this, and the awkwardness of it all had nervous laughter bubbling in his chest.

“Are you… okay?” He asked instead, voice still raspy from having the larger man’s dick in his throat not five minutes previous, and it seemed to jolt the man from whatever thought spiral he’d followed. He looked bewildered, and Diarmuid frowned when he let out an incredulous bark of laughter. 

“What’s so funny?” He asked, irritation seeping into his words as he wipe at his mouth self-consciously. “If you’re making fun of me, then can you at least let me leave?”

The man’s smile dropped as quickly as it came and he shook his head, looking suddenly very panicked. He bit his lip and Diarmuid’s eyebrows shot towards his hairline when he started to shrug off his heavy jacket.

Oh my god… did he want to go further? Were they really going to do this? He’d been nervous enough when he hadn’t been able to see him, but comparing their bodies now, he was overwhelmed with the sudden feeling that he was severely lacking. He knew he wasn’t unattractive but compared to the literal lumberjack in front of him? How could he compete. Despite all this, he could feel himself filling out in his jeans again.

The older man folded the jacket over his left arm, unbuttoning the cuff and rolling up the sleeve of the right and… okay, he had definitely missed something here.

When the tanned forearm was exposed he turned it wrist-up and shoved it between them, keeping his eyes fixed on the younger man’s face. Diarmuid glanced between the arm and the stranger, noticing the small, slightly faded tattoo just below his elbow, but focussing on his outstretched palm. The darker man had an expectant expression that fell into something a little more pained with each moment that Diarmuid remained silent.

“I… do you want something…?” He asked, eyes widening in panic. “Oh my god, do I have to _pay_ you? I’m really sorry, this is my first time doing this, no one told me I had to pay, oh my god…”

The stranger sighed frustratedly and pointed at the tattoo.

Diarmuid’s eyes trailed over the faded writing, mouth moving in the shapes of the words written there. His jaw dropped as realisation set in, jerking his head up to meet soft, hesitant eyes.

“You’re the reason I can’t go swimming in public.” The stranger said lightly, voice gruff but not unkind, and Diarmuid’s heart pounded in his chest as he heard the words he’d traced on his right ankle a thousand times over.

The nervous laughter that had been bubbling up throughout the exchange burst free, and the stranger’s shoulders loosened slightly. Diarmuid held his hands over his mouth, eyes brimming with mirth and joy and embarrassment because oh my god, _oh my god_ …

“Can I buy you a drink?” His soulmate asked, and Diarmuid nodded frantically, red faced and beaming as he laced the outstretched fingers with his own.


	2. 3- Mermaids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BEWARE 
> 
> this is sexually explicit content so if you don't want to see that then that's totally fine, I've got the ratings there for a reason and don't want to make people uncomfortable!! Link in the chapter xx

http://fav.me/de1q1vm

Here's the link to my art piece for this prompt, I've been trying to decide how to format this and show it and so I finally took the plunge and created a Deviantart for ease of access! :) 


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